


変身 [Henshin]

by phisen, TenchiKai



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Canon, Reunions, Romance, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-15 23:49:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10559780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phisen/pseuds/phisen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenchiKai/pseuds/TenchiKai
Summary: When plagued with self-doubt, Yuuri and Victor's reunion after the Grand Prix Final takes a different route. For one of them.





	1. Chapter 1

He must have fallen asleep. The turbulence made him realise that, as he woke up with a jerk. He fumbled to find his phone somewhere in his jacket pocket. He nearly panicked when he couldn’t feel it at first, but managed to relax and take a deep breath when he noticed that it was wedged between the seat and the armrest.  _ That could have been really bothersome. _

He turned it on to see what time it was. A little more than half an hour left. As on cue, his heart started to hurt, beat both harder and faster. He was almost there. Almost together with him. Just a few moments more.

He could barely understand how his life had turned out. The last ten months had been crazy, there was no other way looking at it. Him returning from the States, feeling incredibly lost in life and that silly skating routine that went viral… and how that made ripples on the surface on not only his life, but also…

_ Victor. _

He had come to him. Like the skating routine had been his clarion call. 

He put his hands to his cheeks, feeling them heat up. He could barely believe that he had ended up on this amazing journey together with him, and where it had gotten him. And now, he was on a plane, bound to touch the ground of Pulkovo in a matter of moments. St. Petersburg. His new home.

The intercom crackled when the flight attendant announced that they were descending, ready to land. The same courtesies, the same passive aggressive lectures to put up the seatback, the tray table and fasten the seatbelts. No using mobile phones until they had disembarked. All of that didn’t matter to him now, he just wanted to get off and find him.

As soon as he felt the plane touch ground, the thoughts began to attack him with renewed vigor. A nervousness crept over him. And also, an anticipation.  _ What if… _ He tried to chase the thoughts away that had started to prod, but they wouldn’t leave him. The thoughts eventually formed into one monstrous question that his mind repeated to him over and over.  _ What if we’ve made the wrong choice? What if this won’t work? What if he doesn’t… love me? _

In the seconds that followed, he’d made up not only a heartfelt greeting but also a tearful goodbye in his mind. He exhaled slowly, tried to keep himself from shuddering. He realised that it was time now. It was time to see if it would work. If they could make it work.

* * *

 

He stood in the sea of people, waiting for the queue to start moving. He made sure to check his seat once more, that he had his phone, his wallet and that everything was put back into his backpack. It wasn’t easy for him, trying to stay calm. He tried to divert his thoughts by fiddling with his phone, but he was met with a stern look in response by fellow travellers. They weren’t allowed to use their phones yet after all. So, with a sigh, he put it back into his jacket.

The queue started to move and he took a deep breath. Hoping it would ground him, before he started walking.

The corridor was never-ending. After an incline, they had to walk up two flights of stairs, turn left and follow arrows painted on the floor. With every step, he felt giddy. Yes, he wanted to see him, he knew that much. It was becoming this strange mix of excitement and nervousness he’d never felt before. It made butterflies dance in his stomach and his hands shake, just a bit.

After rounding a corner, he was in the arrivals hall. His eyes immediately started to scan for something familiar. He wanted to see those broad shoulders, that silver hair. That smile that was meant just for him. And as he did, the world stopped. 

It was like everything else faded away. Became gray or blurry, he wasn’t really sure, but he was there. In full colour, crisp against everything else. He gave him a little wave before he came closer, that brown coat was familiar and oh, he was too. With every step, the smile that exploded on Victor’s face as he saw him got brighter. Those blue eyes were invested, his mouth was too. It looked like he was really happy to see him.

They said nothing as they came close, found each other in the stream of people flooding in from behind. They just looked at each other, brown eyes meeting blue, and he couldn’t help but wonder if his truth differed from his own in that particular moment. It probably did, he realised, as obvious as the fact that his eyes were brown and his was blue.

“Yuuri, welcome. Welcome to St. Petersburg,” Victor finally said as he trailed a thumb along his cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

They were simple words, but they found a way to make him shed the tension. With a shivering exhale, he put his head against his chest. Feeling a quake on the inside. The voice, the smell, the  _ everything. _ It was too much. But also not enough. He didn’t even register his eyes watering, though they didn’t spill over.

“Oh, Yuuri. What’s this?” There was that warm voice he loved to hear him use.

He felt his hand in his hair, pulling him a little closer. He had to respond by holding on too, grabbing at the fabric of his coat. Feeling his fingers searching for him underneath it.

He heard him sigh a little, somewhere above him, suddenly feeling his hands on his shoulders. Gently pushing him away before they regrouped on both sides of his face.

“Come. Let’s go home.” 

He put his hands on his, relishing the feeling of having them against him, his face. He dared to look into those blue eyes again, feeling slightly calmer, more normal, as he gave him an almost invisible nod in return.

* * *

 

“This is it. Just let me unlock the door.”

He watched him search for his keys, putting a hand down one of the pockets of his coat. The jingle they made when he pulled them out started something inside him that he couldn’t make sense of. He understood that it was happening, he saw it with his eyes, after all. He knew this was his new reality, but his brain was on the fritz. He was in a haze of sorts.

He felt distant, more like an observer than a participant. He couldn’t really latch on to the situation wholeheartedly. He wanted to, more than anything, but there was a doubt there. Something that ultimately made him afraid.  _ What if it’ll be taken away? What if this is not meant for me? _

The sound of the door opening and the bark that sounded from within made him return, if only for a brief moment. 

“After you.” There was that smile again.

He looked at him. His eyes were reassuring, he thought. At least, it seemed like he wanted him there. That realisation made him dare. He took the two strides into the darkness, feeling his hand on the small of his back guide him as he followed him inside.

“Let me just turn on the lights, give me a second.”

We wasn’t sure what to focus on first. The pouncing dog or everything else. As the light came on, he felt breathless. This was his, no… theirs. Yes, theirs, he’d said as much before.

“Hi, Makka.” The dog got his attention. “Nice to see you.” He got a few licks across his face before the poodle went over to its master.

“Just leave your stuff there, Yuuri. Go on, take a look!”

He took off his shoes out of habit. Dropped his backpack on the floor. Handed him his jacket. He still felt so distant, though his muscles made the movements of their own accord.

“It’s… it’s okay?”

“Of course, what kind of question is that? You live here now.” His words were followed by a laugh, like he thought his question was funny. Or stupid, maybe. “I don’t have any secrets, go ahead.”

Taking a few hesitant steps inside the flat, he truly entered. He knew he shouldn't, but he never felt more like an outsider. In a way, he was. It felt strange to him, getting access to what ultimately was Victor. Victor in his essence, his home. 

“The bathroom is the first door to the left,” he called behind him.

He went past the kitchen, giving it a brief glance. It was built around a kitchen island, with everything else being against the walls. Leaving an open and airy feel. He noticed that some pots were out, which disrupted the overall appearance a bit.

He peered into the bathroom, the first door to the left, turned on the lights. White walls, mosaic tiles on the floor, washer and dryer to the right. He suddenly felt a laugh bubble up. Strange how someone as whimsical as Victor could keep his surroundings so tidy. He had a hard time believing that the flat usually looked like this. Everything was so minimalistic. So clean. So well put together. Like there was massive amounts of thought behind everything, every placement, in order to make it seem effortless.

He turned off the lights as he continued down the hallway. He felt apprehensive. Where would he fit in this context, he wondered. He was, after all, just a dime of a dozen figure skater from Japan.

What was behind the second door on the left made him gasp after he’d found the light switch. It was his bedroom. He felt like an intruder, like he was desecrating an inner sanctum he had no rights to even witness or experience. 

Straight ahead, being the first thing you saw as you entered, was the bed.  _ He’s got a double bed all to himself?  _ He took a couple of steps, and his feeling of not belonging got exchanged. Suddenly, he felt a desperate need to belong. He looked around. The left wall was filled with Victor’s accolades. And with that, reality hit him again. He really had no place here, how could he ever fit in?

He walked closer, slightly awestruck seeing the glittering medals, the beautiful photos. It was a chronicle of Victor’s career. As he studied the photographs, he could remember what he’d been doing, who he’d been in those brief moments in time. Of course, he knew that he’d been watching him. He could remember every prize giving ceremony since Victor won the Junior Worlds at sixteen, like it was important. And, in a way… it was. At least to him. With every win, his desire to meet him had grown stronger. With every win, his heated wish of competing against him had become more unbearable. With every win, he knew that he, at least once, would want to stand on the same ice as him.

His eyes lingered on a particular photo. The Grand Prix final from the year before. Victor, together with Christophe and Otabek. Showing off their medals on the podium. Why did that feel like an eternity ago? And, even more importantly, why did he suddenly feel exactly the same in that very moment as he had back then? He fought the embarrassment, the sense of being mortified. The notion of being worthless.

He heard soft steps behind him, as well as claws against the floor. He briefly looked, just to acknowledge him and his presence, before his eyes went back to that photo.

He felt his arm around his shoulder, a gentle rub before it became still.

“Here.” 

He was given a cup of coffee.

“Thank you.”

“It’s not as impressive when you see it like this,” Victor said. “It’s just medals after all. It seems more impressive when you talk about it. The champion of this, the Grand Prix winner of that.” He kissed his hair. “I’m not really sure if it means anything in the end, but there you go.”

The fact that Victor was downplaying his achievements was a blow. To Yuuri, it felt like everything he wanted to achieve for himself suddenly became insignificant. If wins mattered that little, why even try?  _ Why am I even here?  _ He felt a burn behind his eyelids when he finished that train of thought. In an attempt to stop the threat of an emotional display, he took a large mouthful of coffee. Focused on the taste, on the heat that spread in his mouth before he swallowed.

“So, love. I’m hungry and I have planned something for dinner.” The hand on the shoulder moved a little again, tried to be friendly. Soothing. Reassuring. “Relax until then, okay?”

He nodded a little, switched the hand he was holding his cup with and squeezed his as it rested on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“I better get to it,” he said. Resting his chin on his head for a couple of seconds.

As he walked off, leaving behind a warmth on his shoulder, Yuuri realised that he was wishing for a lot of things. The most important wish, the one he’d been thinking about constantly ever since their agreement for him to move had been formed, repeated itself like a mantra.

_ Oh, how I would love to know if he loves me in the same way that I love him. _

* * *

 

Showering had that effect. Even though it was purely metaphorical, feeling water cascading down his body, it washed things away. Gave him respite, at least for a little while. 

He had closed the door before he got undressed, thinking about if he should lock it or not. Strange, how such a small, insignificant thing could suddenly feel so important. What would it mean if he left it open? What would  _ he  _ think if it was locked? He decided to try to make them both happy, by declaring that he was taking a shower. Not locking the door after he’d closed it.

Maybe he was reading into things. Why shouldn’t he be allowed his privacy? But then again… He looked at the gold band on his right hand, it being proof enough that he’d made a commitment that impacted them both.

He heard a small knock on the door.

"Yuuri, I have a towel for you.”

As he heard the door open, the scent of Victor’s cooking flooded the bathroom. The smell expanding instantly due to the humidity. Making him hungry.

Even though he had his back against him, he felt his eyes on him. Making him feel a lot of conflicting things at once. He felt vulnerable at the same time as he felt a heat. He turned the water off, taking a moment to ponder why he felt the way he did. Nothing about this was new, other than the setting. Of course, it had been a while, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling of being exposed and not really enjoying it. Although he desperately wanted to.

He felt a kiss on the side of his neck before he became enveloped in an enormous towel. 

“I bought you a robe, it’s the grey one on the door there.” His teeth grazed the lobe of his ear, making him inhale sharply. “Come out when you’re done, dinner’s ready.”

He waited until he heard the steps grow faint before he turned around. He started to dry himself, starting with his hair before he continued to pat down his body. When he was done, he folded the towel and awkwardly left it on top of the bathroom cabinet. He got dressed and put on his glasses before he went out to join Victor for dinner, combing through his hair with his fingers to make it slightly more manageable. 

“Finally!” He heard Victor call from the kitchen. “Take a seat.”

He walked up to the kitchen island where plates and silverware were set. He sat down on one of the chairs as Victor turned to face him.

Yuuri wasn’t sure, but it was like he gave him a disappointing look. Just for a fraction of a second, before it vanished and became a smile instead. It made him insecure, cementing the feeling of him being an outsider, of not belonging. Of being wrong.

“I ate this in France once,” Victor said, seemingly unfazed by the shift between them. “I can never make it just as good, but it’s still tasty.” He put down the saucepan in front of him, giving him a small nod to make him help himself to a serving.

“It smells great, Victor.”

“I know! We won’t be eating this everyday, but today… well, it’s a day of celebration. Don’t you think? Hey, what do you want to drink?”

“I’ll… I’ll have what you’re having.”

“Wine, then.”

Yuuri nodded as he took a piece of toast and whatever was in the saucepan. Victor was soon to return with a glass of claret.

“This is aligot,” he said as he sat down next to him, pointing at Yuuri’s plate. “Potatoes mixed with cheese. A lot of it. We definitely won’t be having this everyday.” He studied him with a smile, waiting for him to take a bite.

He couldn’t help himself making a content little noise as the taste took over. Once Victor saw his reaction, he helped himself to a serving.

“Glad you like it, love.”

“It’s so good!” He sighed. “Thank you.” He took a sip of his wine, feeling the tingle on his tongue. Maybe, just maybe, the evening would end on a better note.

* * *

 

He didn’t realise it himself, but he was closer to being drunk than sober. The one glass had become a couple more, and then another. Until he was politely declined to have more. The reason ‘I want to save some for later’ made perfect sense to him in his muddled state.

As he found himself in bed, with a spinning head and a beating heart, he felt good. Relaxed. And interested. He wanted to convey that interest, make something of it. He started with fighting his t-shirt.

“Victor,” he slurred as he inched closer after winning that glorious battle, ending his travels with being on top on him, “I want you.”

He got a humming laugh in return. “I can see that.” Victor didn’t slur. He made perfect sense. He always made perfect sense, being that perfect. He was just… perfect. In every sense of the word.

“So, I uh…” His hands were greedy, all over him. Which was easy since he always slept naked. 

He thought he was moving with precision, being nothing but control and grace as he kissed him, his neck his chest, but Victor, that perfect man that always made perfect sense to him, made him come to his senses.

“Love, you know what? You seem tired. Roll over to your side. I’ll be right here.”

Why should he object, he was nothing but sense and truth. He was right, absolutely, no two ways about it.

With a slow exhale, he melted off of him. Rolled over to his side and cooed a little as Victor’s chest warmed up his back. Arms enveloped him, making him feel like it was nothing else that mattered in that particular moment.

“Yuuri?” His voice was low, warm against his cheek. “Are you happy?”

“Mhm, yes. Yes, very.” His tongue is fighting the words, his head is fighting the intoxication.

“Good. Can’t wait to spend time with you tomorrow. Now, sleep.”

He drifted off instantly, thanks to the warmth and the reassuring confinement.

* * *

 

He woke up, eventually. Feeling dizzy and warm. He had a hard time realising where he was at first, but as he felt him close, all around him, he understood that he was in Russia. In Victor’s bed. Darkness still filled the room, and moonlight touched the features of the angel sleeping next to him.

He thought about their day. Their reunion. How he’d been all wrapped up in his own thoughts and fears. How he’d been an ass, a sub-par fiancée, and a worthless lover. He felt guilty. Afraid. What if his actions would do nothing but chase him away?

He kissed the arm that was closest to his face, silently asking for forgiveness. Hoping that he could make amends. He felt his eyelids grow heavy again. He decided that he wasn’t going to fight it. 

One thought, one wish accompanied him into the other realm. Waved him off and left him there.  _ I just wish that I could know that he really loves me. It would make it so much easier. _

* * *

 

“Yui? Yui, good morning.”

He sighed as he woke up, wondering why his name sounded so strange in his ears all of a sudden. He opened his eyes slowly, trying to find the owner of that voice. The one he had been treating badly. He tried to get his hair out of his eyes, but it was everywhere. Like it had tangled him up, wrapped itself around him like a thousand finely woven strings of silk.

He was touching him now, had stopped calling his name in that strange fashion, and he was busy doing something as trivial as getting his hair out of his eyes. He felt his tongue against his chest, but for some reason, it didn’t feel the same. It was electrifying, the way he licked and nibbled. It was new, not his usual modus operandi, at least not as he remembered it. And still, that hair was everywhere, making it impossible to see.

He sat up, annoyed with not getting the black strands in control. As he did, it fell out of his face, not being tangled anymore. He huffed in annoyance before he reclined again.

He was met with a beaming smile. Blue eyes narrow and interested. He remembered how forward he had been the night before, and wondered if it had something to do with it.

Victor’s hands found him again, tracing his contours with both fingers and mouth. Breathing hot exhales against his neck.

“Oh, love… You’re the most beautiful woman I know.”


	2. Chapter 2

_ What did he say?! _ Yuuri looked at him, full of disbelief. Strangely, Victor didn’t seem to have noticed his faux pas. He remained flush against him, breathing raggedly onto his skin.

“Victor, whㅡ”  _ I don’t sound like that! It’s not my voice!  _ He froze, panicked by the realisation that something was incredibly, terrifyingly wrong. With force, he pushed him away. He couldn’t have him near himself, not now. Not until he figured out what was going on.

Of course, Victor looked surprised. Finally, he must have seen that something had happened. That something was very, very different.

“Yui, what…?” His voice died out when their eyes met.

“I… I just… I have to!” He got up and darted for the bathroom, hurried to lock the door behind him. He felt a disabling rush of adrenaline as he stood with his back against the door. Not knowing if he dared to, or even could, walk up to the mirror. From where he stood, he saw their two toothbrushes where they’d left them yesterday. Next to each other, in a glass on a shelf. He looked to his right. The towel he used yesterday was there, folded where he’d put it. He glanced over his shoulder, noticing the grey robe that he never used.

_ It’s… it’s all the same. But I’m not. I’m not the same?  _

The knock on the door made him jump. It was as if everything was unsettling, like there was this punchline there somewhere that had went past him, without him even noticing.

“Yui, love? Are you okay?”

“I…”  _ God, that voice… How is this me? Why do I sound like that? And that name?!  _ He exhaled, tried to get the shivers under control. “I am. I am okay, I just need to do something first.”

He felt his throat shrivel up due to the panic he felt. Knowing that Victor was out there, when something was incredibly off with him, made him tap into the feelings he felt earlier. When he had thought of himself to be an ass. A sub-par fiancée.  _ A worthless lover. _ He flinched. Realising that he was delaying the inevitable.

With his heart thumping in his throat, he walked up to the mirror. He felt his hands getting clammy, his stomach churning, ready to purge itself if need be. 

As he locked eyes with himself, he had to hold on to the basin not to faint. Instead of seeing his usual dark mop of hair, he had long, straight hair instead. He felt his face, noticed that nothing was the same. The features were softer. More round. More feminine. His eyes travelled to his naked chest, and he felt his face explode with embarrassment. That definitely wasn’t him.

He broke the eye contact with himself and looked down. A hand flew up to his mouth immediately. He realised that he had breasts. Female breasts. He didn’t know where to look, didn’t know where to keep his hands. He suddenly felt really uncomfortable in his own skin. His breathing picked up as he understood that this was out of his control.

“Victor, I uh… Can, can you please come in here?!”

“Unlock the door!” He sounded agitated too.

He took the few steps from the basin to the bathroom door and turned the lock. Victor was quick to open the door, like he’d been waiting with his hand on the handle.

He found it strange that his whole demeanor changed when he saw him. Like the agitation and worry that had filled his voice seconds ago just got washed away. Sadly, he didn’t feel the same. 

“What’s wrong,” Victor softly asked as he walked up to him, put his arms around him and pulled him close.

"I… am I different to you? From yesterday?”

“No, love. You’re still you, exactly the same.” He let him go, cupped his face to make them look at each other. “What is going on with you today?”

“I… I don’t know. I just… I feel so…” 

“You know what? You flew across the world yesterday, you had... a little too much to drink. Would be strange if you weren’t feeling funny. Right?”

“I guess…” 

“Don’t worry. There’s nothing wrong with you. Okay?” He smiled. Waited for some kind of sign that it was, indeed, okay. When he saw the nod, he continued. “Breakfast, how does that sound?” 

“Yes, I’d like that.” He dared to touch him a little. He felt very much the same, and that was reassuring. Calming, even. “I’m just going to put something on, so…” As his hands vanished from his face, he walked past him. Heading for the bedroom where he knew he took off his t-shirt the evening before.

He looked around underneath the duvet, trying to find the shirt. Maybe it was somewhere on the floor? He got down on all fours and looked underneath the bed. It was easy to spot, just out of view if you were standing up. He reached for it and got up, suddenly feeling a warm hand travelling from his spine to his waist.

“Victor, Iㅡ”

He got silenced by an eager mouth as he got turned around. For a fraction of a second, he wanted him to stop but it felt wonderful. Sharing that moment with him, feeling his urgency. He brought out something, with the help of his hands, his mouth and that exhilarating closeness. After all, he’d been longing for this, exactly this, even though he’d been unable to find it in himself yesterday.

“Better?” Victor’s voice caressed his lips.

“Better,” he replied.

* * *

 

He had told him to take it easy as he went to the kitchen to make breakfast. He decided to stay out of his way, remain seated on the sofa and just watch him from afar. It was a lovely sight, seeing him rummage around in the fridge, not really wearing much. Even doing simple things, he was a marvel to look at. Easy to get caught up in.

“You want anything in particular, or…?” He asked over his shoulder. He was really attentive, Yuuri had to give him that. Extremely so, even.

“No, not really. Anything is fine. Oh, need any help, by the way?”

Victor closed the fridge, smiling as he unloaded groceries on the kitchen island. “Definitely not. Let me take care of you today. I think you need it.”

They shared a little moment, even though they were apart. A moment of understanding, Yuuri thought. As Victor turned away, busy with preparing whatever it was, Yuuri started to pick at the hem of his t-shirt. Getting lost in thought.

He kept thinking what it would entail, this new bodily… arrangement. He still couldn’t believe what he’d seen in the bathroom. The body that wasn’t his, that strange feeling he had inside that he really couldn’t put his finger on. He could feel a stress building up when his mind took a turn, approaching a dead end. Of course, that thought was impossible to block out. Inevitable.  _ What if I’m… stuck? In her? In this new… me? What if I’m going to stay like this?! _ He suddenly felt sick, his anxiety picking at barely healed scabs.  

He tried to calm himself, tried to find possible solutions to why it was the way it was, but realised that it was impossible. The situation itself as well as figuring it out. But still, here he was, having long hair, a softer face and… other female attributes. This wasn’t a dream, but it couldn’t be real. It just couldn’t. His eyes became uneasy, stinging a bit underneath his fluttering eyelids. He didn’t want to cry, not now, but the feeling of utter powerlessness was so tangible. So raw inside.

“You okay over there?” Victor had a saucepan in his hands, stirring its contents vigorously. 

He felt bad dragging him down, making him worry. Of what he had understood so far, she, this  _ Yui, _ was what Victor was used to. Used to coach too, most likely. She was what he’d been waiting for a couple of months to arrive and live with him. And not him.

Still, he didn’t seem different to him. He treated him the same, although he used another name. Touched him in the same way, as far as he could recall. This was normal to Victor. She was his normal.

“Yui?” 

It was hard, staying in the moment, answering his questions when everything felt strange. Out of place. But he nodded and smiled. Not letting him in on this secret.

After a while, Victor came over with a tray that seemed excessively prepared. That Russian porridge everyone seemed to prefer for breakfast, fruit, a couple of slices of bread, coffee… He understood that he wasn’t going to go hungry, being with him. As her.

Thanks to Victor, the time they spent together over breakfast was light. Cheery, almost. He asked a lot of questions. What he would like to do after unpacking, if he had brought everything he needed from Japan, if he would like to see the new home rink… Apparently, the rest of the Russian team would be there so if they wanted to skate, they had the opportunity to do so.

They decided to take it easy until early afternoon, do some unpacking before walking to the rink to meet the others. Victor had apparently started making some space in his walk-in closet, which made the unpacking easier and not as time consuming. Or, that was not entirely true. At least not to him.

Opening his luggage, he understood that Yui really existed. She had clothes, underwear, toiletries. Things that wasn’t his, things he didn’t recognise. He sat on his heels, looking at her underwear. Not understanding the situation at all. Not being able to accept the fact that she wore what women wore and that he had to do the same.

“Oh, you need more space,” he could hear Victor say from above. “If I clear this drawer out, do you think everything will fit?”

He looked over his shoulder, answering his question in a resigned way. “What do you mean?”

“Your bras, of course. Will they all fit in here if I clear this drawer out?” He hadn’t picked up on his glum tone of voice.

He didn’t know what to answer him, since that was uncharted territory. He decided to just nod and say that it was fine. Even though it wasn’t.

* * *

 

“Why don’t you bring your skates too? It’ll be fun to just play around a little before we start with your training next week.”

He thought about it. It could actually be fun, skating with Victor. That was something he actually was familiar with, something he felt at ease doing. Maybe, just maybe, skating could act as a crucial diversion for him today. 

“Sure, I’ll bring them. Will you skate with me or just tell me what to do?” He got surprised that he actually sounded cheery. The prospect of having Victor skate together with him usually had that effect, but since he had been struggling ever since he opened his eyes that morning, it came as an even bigger surprise.

They decided to take Makkachin along with them on their walk to the rink. Victor explained that no one thought twice seeing him at the rink. Wherever he went, Makkachin followed. And that was the way it was if he had to commit to one rink. “They can’t have one without the other,” he mused.

They approached a bridge after maybe fifteen minutes or so. He suddenly felt Victor’s hand squeezing his. 

“This is Anichkov Bridge. And over there,” he pointed with his free hand, “is the rink. You see it?”

“The building with that dome-shaped roof?”

“That’s the one. We’re going to spend a lot of time there from now on, so I think it’s important for you to know how to get around.” He brought his hand up to his lips and kissed it briefly. 

“Thank you for showing me,” he said, pulling on his arm a little. Asking him to stop. When he did, he had to stand a little on his toes to reach his lips. He deserved a reward.

After that intimate meeting, that felt sweet and chaste more than anything else, they carried on. Preparing themselves to meet their teammates.

* * *

 

He felt the caress disappear as they parted ways. Victor walking to the men’s locker room and Yuuri… went to the women’s after almost following Victor by instinct. 

He peered in and was happy to see that it was empty. He didn’t know how he would carry himself if being forced to change together with women.  _ Real _ women. In all honesty, it felt a little bit better in comparison to the morning’s dramatic events, but he felt like it was a very fragile balance that easily could get overturned.

He laced up his skates and reacted instantly how different they felt to wear. He wasn’t sure if he could overcome that sensation and realised that he wasn’t even sure how this new body of his was to control. 

He looked around and found the bathroom, filling up his water bottle after the water had turned cold enough. He took a sip and steeled himself as he walked out the door that lead to the rink.

Victor was already on the ice, doing basic figures as a warm-up. In the distance, he saw Yuri stretching. He hesitantly got closer and was greeted by Mila, who came up with arms outstretched. 

“Yui! Welcome to Russia! I can’t believe you, skating on your first day here?” She embraced him. When they parted, she looked over her shoulder, glancing at Victor. “He’s not going to go easy on you, you know that, right?”

“No, I… guess he won’t.”  _ Yui’s real to her too. I… I don’t exist anymore! _

“So… are you okay? You look a bitㅡ”

“Tired! I’m just tired.” He excused himself with a nod, and went out on the ice. 

As he suspected, it felt strange maneuvering that new body across the ice. The limbs were shorter, his center of gravity lower and he didn’t feel as strong as before. After a while, skating together with Victor and mostly playing around with lifts and ice dancing figures, the strange novelty disappeared and he felt more in tune with his new shell. 

“There you go,” Victor called from a distance, “you look so much more comfortable now!”

Yuuri wondered how it had looked as he first got on the ice, if what he was feeling now was considered to look ‘more comfortable’ in Victor’s eyes. 

“Victor,” he said as he passed by, slowing down slightly to stand beside him, “I was thinking of doing some jumps, can you take a look?”

“Of course! When you’re ready.”

He decided to do a toe loop. The double felt a little shaky in the landing due to the fact that he was a whole lot quicker now, but he decided to push it a bit. If he had to make his peace with this body, he needed to see what it could do. As he decided to try a loop again, crank it up so that he could make it a quad, he got the entrance wrong. Being too quick to assist the jump with his pick made him unprepared for the landing, and resulted in him not being able to have his right skate ready. He fell hard, down on his right knee and elbow. He was lucky to get his arm up, shielding his head as he went down.

It hurt, falling without control. Not being prepared to brace himself for the impact. He felt his eyes tear up, a little noise escaped his lips as he tried to sit. As he cradled his elbow, he felt his presence without not having to look to make sure.

“Love, are you okay?” His voice sounded from behind. 

“I… I am, I just…” He wiped his cheeks. Apparently, this Yui was a crier too. He got hoisted back onto his feet, and felt a supporting arm around his waist.

“I think that’s enough... I’m sorry, I should have let you rest today. That’s not like you, love.”

  
As they went off the ice and said their goodbyes to the others, Yuuri felt worried. If this was what his life would entail from now on, he wasn’t even sure if Victor could make it better.


	3. Chapter 3

They took a taxi home. Yuuri felt bad, not answering to Victor’s questions about how he was feeling, if he was okay, if he wanted to do something when they got home. He just looked out the window, and saw the grey streets pass by. One after another.

He had Makkachin on his lap, his hand loosely gripping at the curly fur in an endless, repetitive motion. He stopped when he felt his hand on his. How it was slowly gripping it, tighter with every second. He just had to look, although he felt ashamed.

The blue eyes were slightly hidden underneath a frown. He was worried, Yuuri realised, feeling even more unsettled than before. They never got around to say anything before the taxi pulled over, Victor being quick paying the fare.

The knee felt even worse now that he’d been cooling down and sitting still for a while. He hissed as he got out, feeling the poodle pull at the leash.

“Here, I’ll take him.” Victor’s hand was outstretched, waiting for the leash.

He quietly handed it over, trying hard not to make it even more awkward. “Sorry,” he said, under his breath, trying hard to stay in control of his emotions.

“Hey…” Victor put a hand on his shoulder, trying to console. Trying to make him look at him. And he did, eventually, before falling into his arms with a sob. His arms were quick to catch him, trying to keep him steady.

“I’m sorry, I’m so… I’m just so…”

“Hush, I know.” His embrace grew tighter. “Come, let’s go home.” His hand slid down to his waist, acting as support as they walked inside.

* * *

 

He was attentive. Too much, almost. Not leaving his side even for a second, other than to fetch things he thought would make it easier. An ice pack for the knee, coffee to ease his mind, and several touches to soothe his soul. That’s what helped the most, he thought. He needed him close, although he was making it hard.

“Just sit with it a little while longer before you shower,” he said warmly, putting his hand softly on his knee to prove his point. He paused for a while, trying to rally his thoughts a little before he resumed. “Yui, I… I can honestly say that this isn’t really how I expected our first day here, together, to end up. What’s wrong? What’s on your mind, love?”

He wanted to scoff. How could he ever understand that he felt the same, but due to other reasons? Unlikely reasons. He tried to test things to say, mulling them over in his head, before he found something that rung true. Something that he needed to know in order to make him feel better.

“Victor? Do you think… I mean… would you…” He sighed. It was hard. He feared the answer. But he took a deep breath, and decided to take the leap. “Honestly, would you love me if… if I was someone else? Like... a man?”

It felt like his question echoed, intent on not leaving the room. Making him think that it would haunt them as long as they would stay together. For how long?

He scooted closer. Put his hands around his face and looked into his eyes. The blue eyes, usually vibrant and cheery, were affected by his question.

He felt his chest hurt. That look, it was something he just couldn’t stand. He wanted to make it undone, to take the words back. But it was too late for that. He could feel his throat clench, as he tried to swallow. Trying to hold everything back, keep everything inside. He knew that his answer would make him feel like everything about this arrangement was a complete and utter mistake. As he felt his eyes overflow, he wanted to look away. He decided that he wasn’t going to look at him when the answer came. But he wasn’t allowed to.

He felt his glasses being removed behind the blur of the tears. How his thumbs drew small semi-circles below his eyes. How… those lips were meeting his? It was a familiar feeling in all this uncertainty. However, he found this reaction to be a surprise. Something he hadn’t been expecting at all.

“Of course I would. It wouldn’t change anything.” He said it so matter-of-factly, totally without hesitation. Like it was the easiest thing in the world.

The words impacted him with force, but not in the way he expected them to. Like always, Victor met him where he was. He didn’t ask any further questions, didn’t need any other answers. An almost immediate relief flooded his system, calming him for the first time in what felt like years.

He almost wanted to laugh, but tears came instead. A million little memories of them together played in his mind’s eye. Memories of words of comfort, of light touches and soft smiles. How… how is it that he doubted him all this time? How much of their newly started life together had he wasted on worry and sadness?

Here he was, in front of him, the one thing that had pulled him together. And he had been trying so hard to push him away. He had endless patience, and he wasn’t sure how to repay that. But he decided to start with a question.

“So, you love me? No matter what?”

Again, the response came immediately. Calmly. “I love you. No matter what.”

For the first time, she initiated a touch.

* * *

 

Strangely, the knee wasn’t pulsating with pain anymore. Having him close, feeling his warmth melt away the very last of her insecurities, had that effect.

She couldn’t deny it, it felt strange. Very unfamiliar. The way he was touching her, it was definitely the same. But how it made her feel, that was new. More intense, somehow.

It had started with her touch, with her hand creeping underneath his shirt. He had looked surprised, seemingly not prepared by the sudden switch of energy. But he had responded with nothing but a smile, quick to catch on. Eager to continue.

And so, he did. Found his way underneath her clothes, trailing his hands along her sides, feeling her back. He laughed as his hands made a second round, as if making sure that he got it right. He cooed a little in her ear, seemingly surprised. “You tease. You’ve planned this all along?”

She didn’t understand what he meant, but his reaction told her that he enjoyed his discovery. He was forceful with his mouth, intrusive with his tongue. Yes, he had really enjoyed what he had come across. Of that, she was certain.

She got scooped up, carried off into the bedroom. He said nothing, but it was easy for her to understand his eagerness, his excitement. He put her on the bed, making sure not to provoke the knee.

“Is this okay?” He asked as he gently tipped her over, a hand finding its way underneath her shirt again.

“Yes. I… yes, it’s okay.” She loved the sight of him, looming over her like that. His hair falling down in front of his face, slightly obscuring his eyes. She brushed it back, time and time again, wishing for him to take the lead. She wanted him to, needed him to.

He sat up, reached for his shirt and pulled it off. “Your turn,” he said huskily.

A warmth was spreading inside her, he was taking the lead. That made her relax. She wasn’t forward, being told to take the initiative was something she had yet to master. She sat up and removed her shirt, his eyes following her every move.

It was with reverence he touched her as she reclined. Tracing the contours of her stomach, letting his hand linger there to feel her breathe. She held her breath when his fingers played along the edges of her ribcage, his touch feeling electric and charged.

She tried to keep eye contact with him, reminding him of this by touching him a little. He found her eyes every time, but kept admiring her, getting lost in her shapes and curves when left alone. She decided to let him, seeing him mesmerised did something to her too.

His hands were travelling upwards now, bypassing her chest and ending up against her face. Now he was the one brushing hair back, leaning in ever so slowly with every caress. She wanted him close, closer, so she found some might in her and put her hand on his shoulder, giving it a little pull.

He responded immediately by finding her and her lips, making her feel that familiar pull inside. The pull only intensified when one of his hands felt her collarbones, and ending up feeling her breasts.

She gasped into his mouth, surprised but also ablaze. “Help me,” she whispered, “I… I can’t get them off on my own.”

He kissed her neck before he disappeared, leaving an unsated need and a void behind. He helped her out of her leggings, being careful with her knee. He took off his sweatpants, shoving them on the floor before he joined her.

“So, love… what do you want?”

“You, I want you.”

“You already do,” he said in a low voice, spoken against her neck.

“Make me feel good, please…” Her cheeks heated up instantly, trying desperately to hide them by pulling him close. Trying to keep him from seeing her embarrassment.

“Easily arranged.” He gave her a deep kiss before scooting down a little, letting her breasts get the same treatment as her mouth.

It was hard for her to stay in control, she felt herself getting more and more lost in the sensation of him being close, his tongue being closer. She felt her breathing pick up with every stroke his tongue made, every sucking kiss. She realised she wanted more of him, everything he could give her.

When his hand found its way underneath her panties, feeling his way inside of her, she had to stop him. True, this was more, but not in the way she wanted it to be.

“Victor…” She heard her voice being full of desire for him, that vibrating tone that tried its hardest to stay steady but failing miserably. “No, not like that. I want… I want more. I want you.” She pulled him close, hiding her face against him.

Her heart was on the verge of combusting, its rhythm erratic and pounding. She felt the need to say more, but she never had to.

* * *

 

“Is it okay, your knee?” He held on to her thigh, making room for himself between her legs.

“Yes, as long as…” She had to collect herself before continuing. “As… long as it has that angle.”

He pushed into her, making her mewl. She had longed for him, feeling him like this. Having him as close as he could ever get. They created an entity that moved together, feeling as one. Tuned-in to each other with every push and pull.

She felt it within minutes, the build. That climb was everything to them both in that moment, trying their best to sate the need of the other but still being somewhat egotistical. She flexed her hips upwards, towards him, making him touch places only he was allowed to. Trying to keep the balance between relaxation and tension to make it last. All with the intent of giving him a chance to catch up with her.

With a push, she was dropped over the edge. Tumbling down and hoping that the fall would last forever.

* * *

 

His eyes flung up within seconds, feeling his heart beat viciously. He tried his best to focus, taken by his emotional state. It felt strange inside. Almost like he’d felt something for the first time, something he was totally unfamiliar with. He realised that he was breathing hard, and sat up in bed. Trying to make sense of things.

He felt his chest. _There is nothing there._ He ran his fingers through his hair. _Still short._ He looked underneath the duvet and came to the conclusion that he was…

“Yuuri! Good morning!”

He felt arms pulling him down, pulling him close.

“Vi… Victor!”

“Wow, how drunk were you last night? It sounds like you’re surprised to see me! You do remember where you are, don’t you?”

He did. He remembered that he was in Russia. In St. Petersburg. In Victor’s flat. He shook his head slightly, stopped that gesture and nodded instead.

“Yuuri, are you okay? You know where you are, right?”

In his head, images materialised. The were vivid, too colourful and carrying emotions with them for him to think that they were anything else than actual memories. _But… it’s impossible. It can’t have happened. Why does it feel like that, though?_

One image stood out amongst all of them that flashed by. How soft blue eyes met his, full of love and adoration. How his glasses were removed, how fingers traced half-circles underneath his eyes. How he, the man he’d been loving from afar, had said something that would change him and how he considered their relationship to be forever. _‘Of course I would. It wouldn’t change anything.’_

“Yes, I do know,” he replied. Putting his hands around Victor’s face, getting lost in those mirrors of blue. “I’m home.”

 

**~* the end *~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **(TenchiKai)**  
>  Victor is so loving. I believe he'd love Yuuri, no matter the packaging.
> 
> **(phisen)**  
>  Seems like nothing can keep them apart, huh?


End file.
